


Old Friends

by iwillrunforever



Category: DCU, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Choking, Dubious Consent, F/M, Violence, head smashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillrunforever/pseuds/iwillrunforever
Summary: At school, your best friend was the mysterious Xander Wilde. When he disappeared, you moved on, taking the safety of Gotham into your own hands. When you discover the truth about him, you must make a choice between your city, and your friend.
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Reader, Jeremiah Valeska/You
Kudos: 20





	Old Friends

Why does he have to live in a fucking maze? What normal person does that?

You had parked your bike a few hundred metres away among the trees, close enough that you could see the entrance but far away enough that his security wouldn’t pick you up. You knew that he would be alone in there. He didn’t trust anyone enough to let them in. He had trusted you, once. Long ago.

_Xander Wilde was a strange person. Quiet, withdrawn, insanely smart. Genius even. You saw him every day around school. His bright red hair was unmissable. You never particularly wanted to speak to him. Not out of dislike or hostility. He was just another face in the crowd. Until one day you were hurrying, late for class, arms overflowing with folders, and you took a sharp turn around a corner only to collide with someone. Him. You hit the floor hard.  
“I’m so sorry!” You looked up at the teenage boy standing above you. He looked shocked, guilty, but was frozen staring at you there on the ground. You shook your head, laughing.  
“It’s okay.” You sat up onto your knees, quickly gathering your things together. He started, joining you and helping pile things into your arms. However, the final few things he kept to himself.  
“Need a hand?” He had a hopeful smile on his face, shy but endearing.  
“It’s okay, I’ll manage.” You didn’t mean to reject him. It was just instinct.  
“You’ve got a lot of stuff.” He insisted, the smile only wavering slightly.  
“Okay. Sure. Thank you.” You grinned, wobbling to your feet. He joined you, taking a few more things from the pile in your hands.  
“I’m Xander.”  
“(Y/N).”  
“Nice to meet you. So, where you headed?”_

Little did you know, but that was the start of a great friendship. You and Xander grew ever closer, without you ever finding out the truth about him. When he left St. Ignatius you fell out of touch. He disappeared, and you took a different track in life. Gotham was trouble, and you hated to see it fall apart. After all, it was your home. And the police couldn’t do anything. They were part of the problem. So you took it into your own hands. Some might say you had a saviour complex. Some might say you had a death wish. But you just cared. Cared too much.

You never took on the big problems: Penguin, the Riddler, Galavan. The people Jim Gordon dealt with you. You went for the chaos stirrers, small-time crooks trying to make it big. You never let them get that far. You worked with the GCPD to bring them in – you had to, even though you hated it – and in exchange, you received fair payment. The bigger the trouble, the bigger the prize.

You didn’t think you would ever see Xander again. So you were shocked when you saw someone identical to him massacre the GCPD. You watched the footage on the news, trying again and again to reason that it was just your imagination, that he didn’t look like Xander. You knew it couldn’t be. His name was Jerome Valeska. Once the GCPD was no longer a crime scene you dug through the file room and found all the information you could. You knew it wasn’t him. Deep down, you knew, but the confirmation filled you with relief. Jerome had been arrested for murdering his mother when he was eighteen, two years ago. Two years ago Xander and you had still been at school. It was just a freaky coincidence that he looked exactly like your old friend.

Or so you thought. A few more years down the line and the truth was revealed. Xander Wilde was not who he said he was. He was actually Jeremiah Valeska. The twin brother of the anarchist Jerome. You were there that day, at the concert. You had planned to go after Jerome yourself but it was a death sentence. Lucky for you, for once the GCPD had a plan. And you got to see Xander again. Of course, now you knew the truth, but that didn’t change how important he was to you. He didn’t notice you in the crowd – he had other things to worry about. But your eyes were fixed on him the entire time. He had changed so much since you had last seen him. The awkward teenager turned into a handsome young man.

After that, he disappeared again. You didn’t go looking for him. But he gave you the perfect excuse. The genius turned insane criminal. Nothing could ever be easy. The GCPD didn’t want you to go after him, wouldn’t even give you an offer, but that wouldn’t stop you. You were set on finding him. Now or never.

That was how you got here. A pistol at your hip, handcuffs in your pocket. You knew he wouldn’t come quietly, but hoped that you could overpower him. He was smart, but he wasn’t a fighter. You approached the door quietly, hopefully stealthily. It was unlocked. Your instincts screamed at you, but you ignored them. How you got in didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding Jeremiah. You descended the stairs and made your way into the labyrinth.

*

You got lost quickly. Every corridor looked the same. Every turn identical. _Shit._ All you had now was dumb luck. Otherwise, you were as likely to die here as to find your way out, or to find Jeremiah. And you were never particularly lucky. Or perhaps you were.

“That is a face I never thought I’d see again.”

The voice behind you was cold, empty. When you turned his eyes were the same.  
“Xander. Except you’re not Xander, are you?” He looked so different. Face pale as snow, hair jet black, blood-red lips. A villainous Snow White.  
“I was. For a long time.”  
“How long?”  
“Fifteen years. I would have stayed him, if it weren’t for my idiot of a brother.”  
“I thought he was you.” You take a step towards him cautiously. “Was relieved when I found out he couldn’t be.”  
“And how do you feel now? Now that you see who I am?” He matched your step with one of his own.  
“Angry.” You came closer, brash and bold, so there was only a foot between you. “You lied to me, _Jeremiah._ ” You spat his name like a curse. It tasted bitter in your mouth.  
“I lied to everyone. Why would you be special?” You baulked at the insult.  
“We were friends. Best friends.” You shook your head, stepping back. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m over it.” You shrugged, half-smiling. It was a mask. He could probably tell.  
“Then why are you here?”  
“Why does anyone do anything? A reward.”  
“So you plan to capture me. Take me to the GCPD.” He laughed, a slight chuckle building into a vicious cackle. Your smile dropped. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t Jeremiah. This was wrong. Suddenly the laughter stopped. His face deadly serious. “A shame. I used to like you.”  
“I was about to say the same thing about you.” You pulled the pistol from your side, pointing it at his knee. You couldn’t kill him even if you wanted to. He stared you down, eyes daring you to pull the trigger. You hesitated. Too long.

With unimaginable speed, Jeremiah’s hand wrapped around your wrist and forced it into the air. It went off, the bullet lodging in the cement ceiling as his other hand gripped your hair. You gritted your teeth, kicking under his leg, but he pulled you down with him. It was messy fighting, inelegant, but it did the job. For a brief moment you were winning, you had him pinned to the ground, almost had the cuffs around his wrists. But he said your name, catching you off guard, and your moment of weakness allowed him to gain the advantage. He rolled you both over, straddling your chest and wrapping his hands around your neck. You whimpered in fear and in pain.  
“I would tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not.” He lifted your face up towards his and gave you a cold, biting kiss. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. When he released you he looked over you one more time, something like regret in his eyes. “I always wanted to do that in school.”  
“You should have,” You choked out, tears beginning to spill. He smiled bitterly.  
“Too bad. Goodbye, (Y/N).” He never said it before. His hands tightened, and you closed your eyes as he slammed your head into the hard stone.

_Goodbye, Xander Wilde._


End file.
